


富士 for Fuji, 不二 for Fuji

by imperfekti



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 16:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfekti/pseuds/imperfekti
Summary: Inspired by Shinteni's July 2019 chapters (270-272). Tezuka and Bismarck talk on the night before the semifinals.





	富士 for Fuji, 不二 for Fuji

“By the way, I ran into one of your ex-teammates today.”

Tezuka raised his eyes from his dinner to Bismarck, seated opposite to him in the German camp’s canteen. The other team members had not returned from their day off outings yet, so they were by the two of them.

He was not thrilled to hear what he just had.

Tezuka had hoped Atobe would have made it out of the grounds discreetly. Unofficial matches were forbidden, and though Tezuka had reasoned to himself that a few rallies did not count as such, he did not need any trouble just before the semi-finals.

If he had been find out, there was nothing to do but handle the consequences.

Tezuka replied in German.

“Is that so.”

Bismarck leaned his elbows on the table, amused look on his face.

“He made quite a ruckus. Poor boy, getting seized by the guards like that, hahaha!”

Tezuka cringed internally. This definitely sounded like trouble.

“What happened?”

“I mean, nothing much at first. Guess he was just loitering around the camp and caught the wrong guys’ attention.”

Loitering around…? While Tezuka had learned to know Bismarck’s descriptions of things could not always be trusted, that did make him reconsider his first assumption.

“Did you recognise him?”

“Sure,” Bismarck replied, chewing his food. “One of the middle schoolers. This cute boy with curls. Loud, not very smart seeming. And let’s see, he was included in QP’s papers... The second year guy with a violent streak? What was his name again? Harakiri?”

Tezuka suppressed a sigh.

“Kirihara.”

“Yeah, that guy!”

While Tezuka was glad Bismarck had not ran into Atobe and didn’t seem to know anything about their brief practise, he frowned as the new knowledge sank in. In the course of one day, not only Atobe, but also Kirihara had come to the camp uninvited. What were Japan’s team members doing, trespassing on other countries camps?

Bismarck had mentioned something about the guards.

“And, what happened to him?”

A sparkle alighted Bismarck’s eyes.

“Yeah, about that. It seems like they took him in for questioning. He was crying and all when they took him. Who knows, they might even still be holding him here somewhere.” 

“...”

Tezuka looked at Bismarck, and Bismarck looked back at him.

Tezuka always won these competitions.

Soon, Bismarck sighed. 

“Okay, they didn’t do that. You’re so boring.”

“I prefer the truth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing interesting happened. I told the guards to let him go, talked with him a bit, and he was out. That’s it. You know, my story would have been a lot more fun!”

“Surely.”

As Tezuka moved to continue eating his dinner, Bismarck kept poking his food and talking.

“But I wonder what he was doing around here. If he was trying to snoop, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Well, I guess not everyone can be QP.”

“Yes.”

“Have you been reading his briefing paper for tomorrow? You should, he has some very recent data, more fresh than you would know from before you left them. I saw even Siegfried reading it this morning, hah.”

“I will read it tonight.”

“Cool.” Holding only a fork, Bismarck popped a piece of potato into his mouth and dug up his phone, putting it on the table to scroll a text document - the briefing, a lot of writing in small print, in German. Tezuka anticipated having to spend a decent amount of time with a dictionary later that night.

But Tezuka wasn’t the only one struggling with language. Bismarck peered at the text.

“Damn, Japanese names are hard. I guess ‘Kunimitsu’ is fine, but like this guy, Boy… Byo… How do you even pronounce that?”

“Byoudouin.”

“Ugh. And this, what? Ta, ne…”

“Tanegashima.”

“Right. At least this Fuji guy’s is easy to remember. That’s like the mountain, right? Your fave?”

Tezuka looked down on his plate and half-eaten meal.

“Their names are written with different Chinese characters.”

“So?”

“...”

When Tezuka didn’t answer, Bismarck continued.

“Anyway, wouldn’t mind a rematch with that guy. Got to set the score straight.”

“These are not personal matches,” Tezuka reminded him. “We should be prepared to play anyone.”

“Well, yeah, but doesn’t mean we can’t have a preference.” Bismarck waved a fork at him to emphasise his point. “Who’d you play if you could choose?”

While Tezuka searched for the words in the still unfamiliar language to avoid answering the question, certain music floated into his mind.

Though it had been high time to return it, Tezuka might have still liked to listen to it tonight.


End file.
